She frowned at his odd reaction. She had thought that he would be pleased that no other man had ever known her in an intimate manner.
“Torture?”
His hand rose to cup her chin. “We will wait for our wedding night.”
“But ...”
“It is how you have always dreamed it would be, is it not?” he demanded softly.
It was impossible to lie. Her every thought was now open to him. He already knew that even through all the years of torture and degradation she had dreamed that someday she would be rescued by her knight in shining armor.
More often than not it had been a foolish dream. What knight would possibly desire a bastard without a farthing to her name? She was a drudge without friend or even family who would acknowledge her.
And yet, through it all she had battled to maintain her innocence.
Her dream would not be stolen. And when her knight came she wanted to at least give him the gift of her virginity.
Now she was fiercely proud that she could give her innocence to Gideon.
“Yes,” she at last admitted with a small smile.
Although she could feel the dreadful struggle it took to rein in his smoldering passions, Gideon merely gave an understanding nod of his head.
“Then that is how it will be. You are already mine in all the ways that truly matter.”
Wondering if her heart could burst from sheer happiness, Simone lifted her hand to touch his lips.
“I love you.”
Chapter 14
Late the next morning Gideon was seated beside Simone on the bench in her garden. Rather ruefully he patted the special license that was safely tucked beneath his jacket.
When he had agreed to wait for Simone he had imagined they would be wed within a few days, if not hours, but as he came to study the unexpected vulnerabilities of the woman he loved he realized that she deserved more than a hurried marriage before the vicar.
All her life she had been taught to be ashamed of who she was. And while she still maintained her sister’s name, he was not about to allow her to think he wanted to hide their wedding from the world.
With considerable sacrifice he had ordered his staff to begin preparations for a lavish ceremony in St. George’s Square that would include the entire Ton.
If neither of them were quite whom society presumed them to be it did not matter.
Simone would have her day to shine brightly and he would at last have her at his side.
And just as importantly, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind, in his bed.
Shifting uncomfortably as his body stirred in anticipation, Gideon choked back a groan of frustration. For all his logic, there was no controlling the endless need he felt for this woman.
Perfectly aware of his scandalous thoughts, Simone glanced up to flash him a wicked smile. The minx was becoming quite adept at driving him mad.
“Well?” she said in those sultry tones that made his blood heat to a near boiling point.
“Well what?” he demanded as he considered dragging her into his arms and reducing her to his own state of discomfort.
She held up the sketch she had been diligently working on for the past few hours.
“It is my wedding gown.”
Gideon obligingly studied the smooth charcoal lines drawn upon the pad then gave a decisive shake of his head.
“Absolutely not.”
She blinked in surprise at his firm tones. “But it is lovely.”
“It may be lovely but there are far too many buttons.”
“What?”
Taking the sketch pad from her hands he tossed it onto the bench and roughly drew her into his arms.
“I have waited too long for you. I will not devote half the evening attempting to wrestle you out of your gown.”
“Really, Gideon,” she attempted to chastise only to give a laugh as he planted desperate kisses down the length of her neck.
“One ribbon,” he conceded, continuing the fascinating discovery of the satin skin of her throat. “Perhaps two.”
Her hands lifted to clutch at his shoulders, her heart racing in a gratifying manner.
“I see you are to be a tyrant,” she complained in unsteady tones.
“Only when it comes to buttons,” he assured her, his tongue reaching out to lightly taste of her. “I wish to bed my wife without battling folderols.”
“Mmm.” Her head obligingly tipped back to allow him access to the vast amount of skin exposed by her plunging neckline. “Ribbons, then. Definitely ribbons.”
His mouth sought ever lower, pausing over the rapid beat of her heart.
“I knew you would be a sensible wife.”
“How very charming.”
The unexpected sound of a voice in the center of the garden had both Gideon and Simone jerking apart in surprise. With lethal swiftness he was on his feet and facing the intruder.
Only when he noted the old gypsy woman smiling in an oddly contented fashion did he relax his guard.
“Nefri,” he murmured, offering the powerful vampire a bow as he felt Simone rise to her feet to stand beside him.
“Good morning, Gideon, Lady Gilbert.” She moved slowly forward, her numerous bracelets and necklaces jangling with every step. “I see all went well last evening.”
Gideon grimaced, knowing it would take some time to heal the wound of Tristan’s death. For now he still battled the wretched sense of waste.
“No, not well,” he corrected in harsh tones. “Tristan has been destroyed.”
Nefri gave a slow nod of her head, her expression one of regret, but with no surprise at his revelation.
“Unfortunate, but I feared it would come to such a fate.”
“He was obsessed beyond reason,” Gideon agreed.
“Yes.” Nefri paused, a thoughtful air settling about her. “And oddly certain he would succeed.”
Gideon swiftly followed her unspoken implication.
It echoed precisely the unease he had felt last evening.
“Such a thought struck me as well.” His gaze narrowed. “How do Sebastian and Lucien go on?”
Nefri’s smile abruptly returned, more mysterious than ever.
“Well enough.”
“Will they need my assistance?” he demanded, feeling Simone stiffen at his side but knowing he could not allow his friends to suffer even if it meant endangering himself.
Nefri gave a sudden chuckle. “I do not believe they would appreciate interference.”
Considering the two vampires who were every inch as arrogant as he, Gideon gave a wry smile. He would have been offended had either attempted to press their assistance upon him.
“No, I do not suppose they would.”